XXXI
by WhiteMoon56
Summary: Thirty times Akihiko and Minako were together, and one time they were not. (Akihiko/Minako, daily prompt challenge.)
1. I

**A/N:** I just love these two, and as practice for NaNo, this happened. Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

* * *

 **I: Angels**

In the light of the full moon, sickly green and wickedly pale, Akihiko thinks she looks like an angel. Not the usual kind. Not the kind Miki pointed out to him in the old books squirreled away in the orphanage. Not the kind Shinji used to glare at in the store windows. Not the kind the world tells stories about.

No, the kind that scares him. Watching her, seeing the fire burning through her eyes, every line of her accented by the light, he recognizes the feeling twisting his stomach as fear. She's reckless, always has been, and as the Shadows fall beneath her naginata she could very well be a holy, haloed avenger. But she's not.

He reminds himself of this as an elongated claw slices the sleeve of her uniform, and ruby, real blood drips from her fingers. The Shadow is dead within the next heartbeat, and she meets his gaze over the scratch. Her eyes widen, and he pivots a second too late. Pain, precise and sharp, leeches across his back and maniacal laughter fills his ears. He hears his name, and then a gunshot, and then something dark and wet coats his torso.

The Shadow has dissipated at his feet, leaving a puddle of inky black where it used to stand. His vest is a mess of blood and is slowly unraveling. He blinks a few times and the world falls back into place, the sounds of battle rushing back to his ears.

She stands ringed in a new light, fuzzy through the pain. Akihiko can vaguely make out Ose behind her, casting her in angled shadow and cobalt. An angel, just so. He falls into step at her side, hiding his expression behind raised fists and falling opposition. They fight together, they always do, and through the inevitable wounds and the fractured, glowing light their prowl through Tartarus is just like any other. They are powerful there, they are strong. She is a leader, and he is enough.

But later, much later, when the night has waned and the Dark Hour has ended, she is just a girl. He traces her waist and tells her he loves her.

"I love you too."

"…Are you alright?"

"I always am, aren't I? Don't worry about me, Aki."

"Can't help it."

She sighs, and she sounds old, but she smiles at him, just a little. Akihiko pulls her closer.

One day, he could lose her. One day, he might not be enough. And then she really will be just the kind the world tells stories about.


	2. II

**II: Hunger**

He has never seen a girl eat like she can. "I'll have whatever you're having," she says, and it still amazes him. Akihiko has always prided himself on his portions, but it balances out how much he exerts in boxing and Shadow hunting. He needs to eat a lot. Whereas Minako…

Minako just _eats._

She glances up from her current, heaping bowl of ramen and smiles at him. Steam curls up and frames her face. "Penny for your thoughts." She captures a small bundle of noodles between her chopsticks and tips her head.

He chuckles, he has to, and rests his chin in one of his hands, poking his own dinner with the chopsticks in the other. "Just you. Always you."

Minako blushes, though it's dulled a little in the weary lights. Her gaze darts away from his face and back to her food, and he finds himself oddly pleased by the color rising in her cheeks. Eventually she laughs, a tiny little thing, and points at him with her chopsticks, just as he had months ago, the first time they'd spent time here.

"I'll get you back for that. Later."

He doesn't think he likes the wicked glint to her eyes. Then again, maybe he could.

They continue their meal in silence, and she finishes first, which is another thing that astounds him. Sighing, she pushes the bowl aside and rests her face on her stacked hands, tilting her eyes through her lashes and her bangs to watch him. One of her hands starts to patter out a rhythm on the table.

Akihiko twirls a few noodles and avoids looking at her for a lengthy period of time. "Where does it all go?" he asks the end of his chopsticks, risking a sly glance in her direction.

"Straight to my hips," she says, deadpan, puffing her bangs out of her eyes. He laughs, having to set the bite down so he doesn't choke on it. Her lips pull up in a smile and she reaches across the table to run a finger over his knuckles. "Let's go, you're slow."

"I decide to savor it."

"Oh, as if you haven't already had it three dozen times."

True, he supposes. That doesn't mean it isn't delicious. He finishes the last few noodles in his bowl and detaches his hand to tug his gloves on, hiding the patterned bruises, Shadows and competition in equal measure. Minako laces her fingers through his and drags him from the restaurant.

A chill is setting in, the dregs of fall creeping up on them, and her breath mists slightly in the air. The door to Hagakure rattles as it closes behind them. She ducks under the hand holding hers and drapes his arm over her shoulders, smiling up at him. Her eyes are wide and bright and brilliant. "So, Aki," and the name in her voice is perfect, "I'm not hungry anymore. Walk with me?"

"Of course."


	3. III

**III: Horses**

There's a ceramic horse on her desk. It's a delicate thing, painted black with white hooves and a white stripe down the front of its nose. One hoof is lifted in a pose and it's angled perfectly to stare at him.

This is only the second time Akihiko's been in her room, and he still doesn't quite know what to do with himself. He took the doorway as a safe place; he can feel the grooves of the wood pressed into his back as he reclines against it. Her room is pretty sparse; a few posters, a different blanket than the dorm-issued one tucked neatly against her bed, and a handful of photo frames on each available surface. Other than that, the horse is the only thing he notices that really seems personal.

"Aki? You ca' come in, da room won't bite you." Her voice floats from farther in, around the corner, muffled like she's got something between her teeth. He hears the sound of something rattle, and then she swears under her breath. Akihiko pulls himself off the wall and wanders toward the sound, finding her in her bathroom struggling with the pins in her hair. She smiles at him in the mirror, bobby pins in her mouth. "Have a seat," she says, struggling with the words and sticking another pin into place. "Dese dings hate me."

He glances around the room. The only places to really sit are her desk or her bed, and he eyes her uncertainly. "Need help?" he volunteers.

She brushes some of her bangs behind her ears and shakes her head. "No, but tanks."

Akihiko smirks and wanders over to her desk, leaving her to her own devices. He runs a finger over the worn varnish on her chair. "You told me you were ready, y'know."

"I know I didh!" There's another rattle and a small sigh of annoyance. Is she dropping them? "I made a lasth minute change."

He chuckles and scans the contents of her desk. A framed photo of her, much younger, held in the arms of a woman who she's the spitting image of. The horse guards this photo, angled to stand against the frame. Akihiko picks the little figurine off her desk and rotates it between his hands. Sections of the paint are fading, exposing ceramic white beneath, like she holds it often.

"My mom bought me that," her voice rises to his left. He looks up to find her, hair pulled up and just perfectly messy, eyes bright and smile almost real. "The first and last time she took me riding."

The horse in his hands seems to grow heavier. He admires the details before placing it back where it belongs, briefly at a loss for words. "It must have been special."

"She loved them," Minako says softly, moving closer to him until he can see the strands of her hair that she didn't manage to capture. "…It was a good day." There's a brief silence. Akihiko pulls her to him instinctually and her hands lock around his waist. After a heartbeat, she sighs. "But, we're running out of time. I told you I was ready, didn't I? Let's go."

He doesn't miss the crack to her voice, but he lets her lead him from her room, away from the horse and the memories.


	4. IV

**IV: Candy Wrapper**

"So, how much do you know about algebra?"

Akihiko pauses in the hallway at the sound of her voice, shifting his jacket to his other shoulder. A faint tapping accompanies the question, as well as the sound of something crinkling. He pivots to see her, sitting at the table, surrounded by a ring of paper and a small pile of wrappers. She pulls another wrapped candy out of the bag at her side and opens it, the tearing sound the only noise.

Minako frowns down at the paper and pops the candy into her mouth. "Seriously," she says, tossing the wrapper to the pile. "This isn't even Japanese, I don't think. Unfair, really."

He laughs and wanders over to the table, folding his jacket on the other chair and leaning over the back of hers, analyzing her homework over her shoulder. She makes a pleased kind of hum and shifts in her seat, loose strands of her hair tickling the side of his face. He brushes away the urge to run his fingers through it and focuses, eyes darting from question to question. He wasn't really going anywhere important, anyway.

"Number twelve is your only real mix-up." He points to the jumbled array of numbers in her sharp, precise script. "Here, can I…"

She offers him her pencil, and he erases the bottom half of the problem and changes the order of two of her equations. "More like that."

All the while, she plucks tiny, circular candies from the bag at her side and accumulates a small mountain of wrappers next to her pencil case. Her breath smells faintly of apricots and something sweeter when she leans in toward his rework and _oh_ 's softly. "So," she says, stealing back her pencil and working through number thirteen with a quick sort of ease, "like… ah _ha._ "

He looks it over, mildly distracted by the purple-pink tint to her lips. "Yeah," he says, recovering, "turned out to be Japanese, after all."

Minako throws a wrapper at him; it sticks to the material of his vest and stays there, suspended. They both stare at it a moment before she breaks into fits of laughter, starting small and then expanding until her real laugh spirals between them. Akihiko plucks the wrapper from the fabric and stares at it over the sound.

"What _are_ these?" He hasn't seen the brand before, some kind of… _Flower Mist?_ Huh.

"They're my favorite," she manages, slowing her laughter to speak. "They help me focus." Her hand waves wildly to the spread mess of paper and wrappers. "It works very well, as you can see."

"Mm," he muses, smirking. He sets the offending wrapper back down on her pile and looks her over. "So you're distracted."

Her eyes veritably sparkle. "Did I say that? Maybe I am."

Akihiko chuckles and leans closer to kiss her, short and brief and sweet. She tastes like apricots, too.


	5. V

**V: Time**

One thing they don't seem to have enough of is time.

Akihiko has never really felt as if his life was on a countdown before, but lately it's measured in _Days Until_ , like a terrible clock ticking away the seconds to a time when he won't be strong enough, when he'll fail. It feels like it could come at any minute, like it's oddly inevitable. Yukari made them a calendar that she squirreled away in the meeting room, the date of the Full Moon circled with a black marker.

He doesn't like it.

The calendar comes to mind as the distant screech of a Shadow jerks him awake, and he blinks in the darkness to eerie green light spilling through his window. He frowns subconsciously; he never has been able to sleep through it. Not a night for exploring, but he knows he won't be able to rest again until it's over, now. Too alert. Too aware.

Minako, blissfully, is still asleep, curled against him, her breathing even and regular. Akihiko pulls her a little closer, pressing his lips to the back of her head. Her hair is soft and free around her shoulders, haloed jade in the Hour.

He envies her, a little, to be able to ignore it so easily when it's not a direct threat. One of her many talents, he supposes, and it's only fair that she should be the one to possess it. She's been tense, lately, jumpy, and he wonders if there's something she hasn't told him. His eyes dart to the world outside the window, all the potential threats, and back to her, all he has to lose.

Fear settles briefly in his chest, but he shoves it aside, forcing himself to relax. She would have told him, if it was something he needed to know. She is, after all, a girl who likes her secrets. That's fine; she doesn't really need protecting after all, if her callused hands and multiple scars are anything to go by.

It is enough here, now, to allow a few secrets. He's certain he hasn't explored every detail of her life, and time will tell if he even has the chance. Time, again. It keeps cropping up.

His hand around her waist is suddenly crushed in her grip. Her lips start moving; he can see the outline of her jaw shift, and regrets waking her. But she doesn't turn over. She doesn't spin to face him and smile or laugh, she just holds his hand with something like desperation, every line of her body sharp and alert, like she's prepared for combat. Something twists in his chest. "Minako?" but she doesn't reply, and as soon as it arrived the moment passes, leaving her limp in his arms.

"Aki…" her voice is like smoke, distant and thin. "What time is it?"

"Late," he says into her hair, his heart tight and fast. He could ask her about it, but she's tired. He kisses the back of her head. "Go back to sleep. I'm here."

She _hm'_ s and traces his knuckles, soon lost again to sleep. Akihiko momentarily watches the moon climb through the sky, nearly able to hear the minutes tick away from them. He sighs, closing his eyes, tucking Minako against him in case she dreams again. It will be a long Hour.


	6. VI

**VI: To Do**

"…What's this?" Akihiko removes a folded sheet of paper from where it's been half stuffed into her folder. "You'll lose it like this." He unfolds the sheet and moves to put it back properly when the title at the top, in her undeniable hand, catches his eye. _To Do._

There are twenty-three numbers on the list, and none of them have been crossed out. Akihiko looks it over, recognizing names from school and clubs she'd joined. He shakes the list so the sound rattles between them. "Minako, do you ever sleep?"

Her head snaps up from her space down the sofa, notebook balanced on her knees. She finishes a sentence and extends a hand for the paper, smiling almost sheepishly. He relinquishes it to her with a pointed look. Apparently his incessant worry is well-founded; he can see the circles under her eyes in the faint lamplight.

"I made promises," she says softly, defensively, drawing a single line through a name near the bottom of the list and re-folding it along the already-worn edges. Akihiko sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

"But you'll be no help to anyone if you overwork yourself." He pauses, eyeing her. She doesn't move. "Right?"

She puffs her bangs off her forehead and crosses out a few more numbers. "Right…" the word is almost defeated. "I'm sorry."

He laughs. "Don't apologize. You've just been looking a little dead on your feet." He reaches around her to tap the list, gloves making a hollow sound. "I found out why."

She must be made of stronger stuff than him. If he had a schedule like that he'd sleep through his morning classes. He shifts in his seat and adjusts his gloves, thinking. "Not sure how you had time for me," he says, smirking, "busy as you are."

"Hey!" Her foot darts out like a snake and pokes him in the leg. "I _made_ time for you." A brief pink colors her cheeks. "You know that."

He catches her ankle and holds it there. She frowns, trying to tug it back, but he's stronger than her; she's trapped. He chuckles and nods. "I know, yeah."

"Honestly," she says, still struggling faintly, just enough that he has to concentrate. "I'm more confused how the great Akihiko had time for _me,_ what with his adoring fan club…"

"Please," he says, at last letting her go, flexing his fingers. " _They_ were not you."

"No…" she says, eyes dancing, folding her leg back beneath her. "I know that."


	7. VII

**VII: A Lost Key**

She'd ran out so fast in the morning she'd forgotten her key.

Akihiko, half-dressed, sits at his desk and twirls it between his fingers. Give it a few minutes, she'll be back. He chuckles to himself, thinking about her fleeing with wide eyes and red cheeks, hearing voices in the hallway. He taps her key against the desk's surface, once, twice.

 _Click, click._

It had been perfect. Less perfect in the light of day, worrying about whispers and rules and appearances, but personally he didn't care. Let them talk. He knows with absolute certainty that he loves Minako Arisato, and that is, well, that.

 _Click, click._

He stares at her key, watching the sun rise to catch the angled brass. It looks delicate next to his bruised knuckles, and he notices they gave her a different one compared to the one he keeps in his wallet. Older, tarnished, a little scratched, but delicate. He likes it. He gives it another twirl.

 _Click, click. Knock, knock._

"Akihiko Sanada, you have something that belongs to me, I think." Minako's voice drips with false authority.

"I just… found it."

"Open the door!"

Akihiko laughs and gets to his feet, tucking her key into the pocket of his sweatpants and turning the handle. Minako stands before him beautiful as always, with her hair a little messy and a new kind of light in her eyes. She looks him up—all the way to the top of his head—and down—all the way to his toes, slowly.

"So…" she draws the word out.

"'Morning," he says. He enjoys the sight of the blush that dusts her cheeks briefly before she schools it back under control.

"You have it; I know you do." She takes a step closer to him until they're centimeters apart, which would be more intimidating were she any taller. He tilts his head down to meet her stare, smirking. She rolls her eyes. "You're terribly infuriating, sometimes."

"Am I?"

"You are." She rises onto her toes and kisses him, sweetly, lightly, too briefly. "Aki, my key. Please."

…He concedes defeat.


	8. VIII

**VIII: Feathers**

Akihiko just wants to _hit_ something. It's all in his chest, squeezing his lungs, like he can't breathe. His hands clench and unclench at his sides; he paces his room without really seeing it, inhaling, exhaling hissed between his teeth. He likes the way the world looks when he pivots, when it spins and tilts so fast around him he can't make it out. He's lost there for a moment, and then it all becomes clear again, and he wants to _hit_ something, and the punching bag isn't enough. It's too strong, too resilient.

For the anger white-hot inside him, he wants something soft. Something that'll cave. He'd messed up in Tartarus, been distracted, missed, and Minako had gotten hurt. He flexes his fingers once, and then again. His knuckles are tight; he's sure they're white beneath his gloves.

Dammit, his fault. She'd taken that hit because he'd missed. He'd never before met Shadows that graceful, that terrifyingly fluid that turned to empty air beneath his hands. He rakes those same hands through his hair and pivots, again—

"Aki, hey, are you okay?"

He turns his head at the sound of her voice. She's standing in his doorway in a black tank top and a pair of navy sweatpants, her hair pulled up on top of her head. The bandage wound around her left shoulder is snow-white clean in the light from his room. His reply comes out a kind of strangled, half-grunt. He doesn't have words for how that bandage twists his insides. She could have _died, damnit._

Minako sighs and walks until she's in front of him, ceasing his pacing. He's antsy standing still, bottled and contained. She puts both of her hands on her hips, slowly with the left one, and smirks up at him through her bangs. "You're doing it."

"What?" he growls, his voice low and almost foreign. He's gotta calm down, or she's gotta move. But she just tilts her head and mimics his earlier reply, a rise and fall in the back of her throat that slips out between her teeth.

"That," she says, smiling. "You do that when you're angry." She glances around the room while he processes this new information and feels his anger cool, just a little. Of course she's not mad at him. Keeping others safe is her _responsibility._

"Here," she says, returning with the second pillow from his bed, a sad, limp thing that really has seen better days. He hadn't even realized she'd moved. She squishes it between her hands, and he can see a loose feather hanging from the corner. "Hit this."

Good, better. Soft. But not with her holding it. "Put it down."

"Worried about me? Sweet, really." She grins her wicked grin, bracing herself in a defensive stance he'd been teaching her, pivoting her bad shoulder away from him. "But I'm fine, and you're mad; you're all tense. Hit it, or I'll hit _you_ with it."

Well, fine. He winds up, but holds back. She notices; it flashes in her eyes with an odd kind of knowing, and the feathers that float free are enough to let him breathe.


	9. IX

**IX: Phones**

Her phone keeps pinging, and even when she huffs at it and puts it on vibrate, he can hear the little _zzzt zzzt_ it makes it the pocket of her coat, pressed up against her hand. "Really?" she whispers, her pace slowing as she fishes it out and opens it, furiously clicking out a reply before tucking it away again.

"Someone's popular," he muses as she twines her fingers through his. He smirks at her.

"Oh, come on," she says, giving his hand a squeeze, "like you're allowed to talk." Her breath mists between them and her smile is enough to keep him warm.

"Mm. But none of them had my number."

She wrinkles up her nose; she's lost this one. Akihiko laughs. Her phone buzzes again and she rolls her eyes and groans, resting her head on his shoulder as they continue through the chilly streets. The weight makes walking a little awkward, but he doesn't ask her to move.

"I'm making friends outside of SEES," she says after a moment, lifting her head to retrieve her phone and type one-handed, the other still holding his. "Good for the soul. And the sense of normalcy."

"You still have a sense of normalcy?"

She laughs, and he smiles. "A little, where I can get it. You've been at it longer than I have."

True. Those were… well, those were days. Not the good days. They struggled back then; they didn't have her and they were young and stupid, compulsive, a little naïve. They thought they were heroes and, well, they were wrong. He feels his smile fade, slowly, and she squeezes his hand again, though she doesn't know. He hasn't told her.

"Yeah, I have. Not sure how we accomplished anything without you."

She sighs, a breathy kind of almost-laugh. "Flatterer."

He smirks. "Or the truth."

There's a moment of silence, during which her phone vibrates. Akihiko cannot help but turn his eyes skyward and silently beg for intervention. Minako rips the device from her pocket with a tiny "Seriously. Seriously?" and holds the power button until the screen fades to black. "There," she says, final, satisfied. "Alone at last. Us and all the commuters."

"The best kind of alone." Akihiko turns her head and draws her in for a kiss. Lost amid the crowds, they are normal, stealing a moment. He savors it. And then they pull apart and are jostled slightly, and she is smiling.

Minako coils her right arm around his left, dropping her head back onto his shoulder. The silence is a good one as he resumes walking, trying not to knock her around.

"I love you, Aki," she says after a moment, almost a whisper.

"I love you, too."


	10. X

**X: Fire**

Restrained. He's being held back, even though Miki's still in there. In _there_ , with the smoke and the flames and the ashes. He struggles, but the hands holding him are strong. He turns, livid, a new kind of ice lacing his veins, seeing red, tinted ash and dust and smoke and coughing.

Shinji. When did Shinji get so much stronger than him? He opens his mouth, and Shinji gives him a single, sharp shake. "Don't be stupid. Stay here." He pulls Akihiko closer to him, and he can see the tension to Shinji's shoulders, but his voice is steel. "Running back won't help her anymore." There's soot on the both of them, and the others, too. She's the only one missing, and it stings like he's burning, though he's not.

It feels the way it sometimes does after Shinji and he would fight, seeing stars, reeling slightly. He feels like Shinji punched him, but that's not it either. Shinji is helping him stand, now. He clings to the hands holding him up and grits his teeth together.

Flames, screaming, smoke, ash. They don't find her.

 _~Aki-nii, Shinji-nii, we'll be friends forever! Promise, okay?~_

Akihiko wakes with a jolt to a green sky and Minako's face hovering over him, his name on her lips. "Akihiko!" She shakes his shoulder and he returns to the world. Iwatodai, not the orphanage. The Dark Hour, not that night. Minako, here, with him, alive, real. _Minako…_

He hasn't had that nightmare in a long time.

He covers his face with a hand and sighs, letting it rattle in the silence. Minako leaves hers resting on his shoulder and her voice is gentle like she's afraid. It's a new tone for her. "Aki… are you… are you okay?" Her fingers are cold. He reaches over and entwines them with his own, and she inches closer to him, ducking under his arm and curling against him beneath the blankets.

"Just a dream," he says quietly, though if he closes his eyes he can still see the yellow-white light, feel the heat of it. His heart pounds a little too rapidly against his ribcage. It was stupid of him to think he'd be free of it, even now. He smiles bitterly into the dark and hopes she doesn't see it.

"You were shaking," she ventures, tipping her head back so she can see his face. Her hair spreads over the pillow and washes it an odd kind of sickened auburn. He presses her closer, touching his lips to her temple, trying to calm his heartbeat.

"…The fire," he says at last, and hears her breath hitch in her throat. "And before you apologize, it's an old one. Must have been a special night." He doesn't even restrain the venom that leaks into the words. Minako pulls her hand free and reaches over to trace the line of his jaw, lips pulled up in a sad smile. And despite the dream, he has never felt luckier.

"I get them too, sometimes," she says, and he had a feeling, but he doesn't say anything. He just wraps both of his arms around her and holds her close, pushing away memories of screams and fire and remembering her, instead. New thoughts to extinguish the flames.


	11. XI

**XI: Rehabilitation**

The threat of a chill day presses against the windows, and Shinji sleeps. He's been sleeping for a while, now. The doctors attributed it to blood loss and shock, depravity, and something in his system they couldn't quite name.

Akihiko knows it's the Suppressors.

 _Rehabilitation,_ the doctors claim, even as he stares at the hard lines of Shinji's face and knows he won't like that word. _He will require months of rehabilitation if his condition is to improve._

…Damnit, Shinji. Akihiko analyzes one of his last remaining real friends, comatose, unresponsive, broken bullets and shattered glass. He'd wanted to die; to accept Amada's anger with a flat, silent stare. He'd wanted to _die._

Akihiko drops his head into the palm of one of his hands, staring at the heart monitor reporting Shinji's continued existence. The door opens behind him and Minako tiptoes into the room like she'll wake someone, and wouldn't that just be a miracle. She smiles at him, almost wryly, and he pats the chair at his side. The two of them sit in a kind of silence for a moment before he reaches over and takes her hand, slowly entwining his fingers with hers.

"You saved his life, you know," Akihiko says after a moment, softly, still stunned by how easily she'd gotten through to Shinji, how calmly she'd handled his crass nature and his inlaid instinct to push people away. All this talk of _rehabilitation_ was only possible because of her.

"No, I…" she replies, staring at their interlocked hands. "I just… found his watch. He decided to take it with him." Her gaze drifts to Shinji, mouth pulling down into a thoughtful frown. She ghosts a finger over Akihiko's knuckles and breathes.

"I'll tell him you did," Akihiko murmurs, watching Shinji, too. Minako laughs, and he nods, confirming it. "He should know someone put him in his place." He doesn't mean for his voice to catch on the words, but it does anyway, and he swallows. Minako leans over the space between them and pecks him on the cheek, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

"He's going to wake up," she says, and he can feel her voice against his shoulder. "He's got too many eyes on him to quit now."

He almost laughs, but it comes out more of a sharp, short gasp. Minako starts tracing patterns on the back of his hand, falling back into the silence he'd been sharing with Shinji. The three of them sit, her staring at his hand, him staring at Shinji, and Shinji staring at nothing. Akihiko briefly wonders if he really can hear them, talking about him as if he wasn't there.

He'd hate it, the audacity of them discussing the future of his _worthless life._

Regardless, Minako had saved what remained of Shinjiro Aragaki, and Akihiko decides he's not allowed to waste the gift she gave him. Not while he still breathes. It's one more name crossed off a list that's too long already.


	12. XII

**XII: Best Friend**

Akihiko finds Minako in the lounge, typing away at a speed that blurs her fingers. Her phone rocks between her hands, shaking as she patters the keys with the force of a rainstorm. "'Morning," he says, leaning over the back of the couch, making her jump. She whips around and smacks him lightly on the shoulder.

"Morning," she says, smiling, shouldering her schoolbag with one hand before returning to her phone. He leads the way out of the dorm into the weak sunlight, just beginning its climb over the skyline. Usually she holds his hand on the walk to school, but she's busy with her screen, still texting away as they begin to walk. He doesn't say anything, instead glancing around at the other commuters this early and wondering idly who she's talking to.

"Sorry," she says at last, pocketing her phone and quickly taking his hand, like she missed it. "Ayame's nosy. It's one of her many wonderful qualities."

He cocks an eyebrow. "Who's she?"

"I haven't… I haven't mentioned her!" Minako reaches and bops herself on the side of the head, laughing, creating little clouds in the air. "She's my best friend, back home. She's been pressing me recently for details I'm not allowed to give."

He can guess what she means. "What did you tell her?"

"Just what my new school is like, what I do with my free time, how my boyfriend is…" she starts indicating questions with raised fingers, reaching the third and grinning at him wickedly.

Akihiko blinks, surprised. "You told her about me." He doesn't phrase it like a question, but she nods anyway, grinning. Her cheeks are pink; he wonders if it's only the cold.

"Of course." Minako squeezes his hand. "Ayame and I tell each other everything." She puffs her bangs off her forehead. "Well, everything that wouldn't put my position at risk, y'know."

He feels a smirk pulling at his lips. "Mm," he muses, looking at her out the corner of his eye, a pointed half-stare. "…Everything."

…It's definitely not just the cold. She smacks him again, a little harder. " _Aki_!"

He chuckles, and she swings at him once more. Her face flushes darker when he reaches out and catches her wrist, pulling her to him and kissing her. The angle is a little awkward, and it doesn't last, but she stops struggling.

"News makes it feel real," he says, releasing her, returning to simply holding her hand. "Sometimes I'm not sure it's real."

Her eyes are a little wide, and she blinks rapidly a few times before shaking her head. "You don't say…" she trails off, reaching up to touch her cheeks, as if tapping them will erase the blush. She looks from him to her hand and back again, apparently surprised it's lasted. Her voice is soft, a perfect smile crinkling her eyes. "What am I going to do with you, Aki?"


	13. XIII

**XIII: Unwritten**

Akihiko feels like he could make a list of all the things that he loves about her. Little things, too small to be contained or described with words. Around her, sometimes, he finds he just doesn't have them at all. And that's okay, too.

It's not a list he could write down, anyway. It's one he'd prefer to keep to himself.

It's more the way her eyes light up when she talks to him, the smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

It's the way her laugh sounds, the way it warms him straight through.

It's the way she looks outlined in light, cobalt shimmer throwing her face into profile, beautiful and strong.

It's the way she says his name, voice curling around the syllables.

He's hopelessly cheesy thinking so, but he does it anyway. And he might never tell another living soul, because no one else really needs to know. That's fine. He's found her, here in the last place he never thought he'd find anything untouched by Shadows and memories.

This is one of those times he doesn't have words. She bounces down the stairs all smiles and winking pins and red, red eyes. "Where're we going tonight? Somewhere special?" She stops a few centimeters from him, and he can smell her perfume. Something light, something almost clear, like the sky outside the window. Something soft and fresh and something he doesn't have words for, much as he'd like to. Something that makes his smirk curl of its own accord.

"Sort of," he says, sliding his arms into the sleeves of his coat.

She pulls her own jacket closer to her body and eyes him. "Mysterious tonight, are we?"

Tonight, of all nights, it's only fair. He wants her company tonight, needs it, and she was more than willing. He pivots on a heel to leave, electing not to respond, and she slips her arm into the crook of his elbow.

"The night is young, still," she says, all dramatics. "Perfect for an evening out, to forget, to…" she looks at him, smile fading and then recovering. "To… hmm. What do you want to do?"

"Anything." His reply is instant. And he adds the brief widening of her eyes to the list, though it is one he will never need to write.

Now is fine. Now is perfect.

He leads her out the door into the night.


	14. XIV

**XIV: Laws**

He sees her disappear. He hears her gasp of shock echo down the hall. He's too slow, though, too far behind. She went on ahead, _scouting,_ and something took her.

Akihiko's heart is in his throat even as he shouts her name. He runs faster, hearing Junpei and Mitsuru break into sprints behind him. He rounds the first corner, and the Shadow that nabbed her hasn't gotten far. It does have friends, though. Reaching fingers have wrapped around her body, pinning her, dragging her away. Laughter and chatter leaks down the hall to pool at his feet.

Akihiko doesn't think, he acts, shouting for Caesar and feeling the pull through his veins as his Persona falls on the offending Shadows. He vaguely hears Mitsuru's voice before two of the Shadows turn on him, clicking their fingers together and groaning. Caesar fries one of them, the other staggers closer. The one holding Minako begins an escape down the hall. She struggles, but she's pinned; she can't get to her Evoker.

 _Stupid,_ running ahead. Reckless. He always hates how reckless she is, as if her life means nothing to anyone. He growls through his teeth, and another burst of blue light explodes in his peripheral vision. The other Shadow screams and fades.

"Go get her, Senpai! We'll take this last one!" Iori gives him a shove in the shoulder, and he doesn't need more encouragement. Akihiko nods and runs, weaving around the Shadow in a graceful dodge, feeling the familiar whistle of a missed blow graze his ear.

Have to find her, have to catch her. She won't fall easily to a measly Shadow, but she was unprepared, miraculously caught off guard. He frowns and traces the Shadow's steps deeper around corners, following the shuffling and the muffled sounds of her voice. He catches a handful of very undignified words, and then his name.

He runs faster, pushing himself down the last stretch of hallway, and sees her. Still caught, still restrained. There's wild terror in her eyes, and they lock with his wide and too bright. Something in his chest clenches, and his Evoker is to his temple and Caesar is crackling Ziodyne between his fingers and the Shadow—

The Shadow is dead.

Minako falls to the ground with a muffled _oomph_ , and Akihiko is at her side in an instant, Evoker holstered and hands brushing mussed hair from her eyes. Thank God; he caught her. "What did I ask you?"

Her hand catches his wrist and holds it; her breath is shaky. "If I… could lead from somewhere next to you." Her gaze meets his; her eyes are wide, not apologetic but stunned.

"I'm making it a law, Minako." He kisses her briefly and helps her to her feet. "Damnit… you can't do that to me."

"I know. I was distracted." She shakes her head, blinking, holding his arm. "I'm sorry."


	15. XV

**XV: Calm**

In the minutes before, she has lost all of her spark.

Sweat plasters her hair to the back of her neck and the sides of her face; her breathing comes in short, ragged gasps. She's bleeding, one weak trickle down her arm to fill the lines in her hands closed around her naginata. She looks at him, and her eyes are not rose-red but russet, like dried blood.

Akihiko swallows; he probably looks the same.

Minako risks one glance up to the top of Tartarus, where her fight is waiting, where the weight of the world will finally lift off her shoulders. She has unfathomable _exhaustion_ in every step she takes to close the distance between them. The others have already wished her good luck; they're gathered in a corner of the room, whispering, waiting. Akihiko watches her and wonders if he will need to mourn her, too.

Her naginata hits the floor with a clang, and she loops her arms around his neck. He drops his hands to her waist and pulls her to him, ignoring any potential stares.

"…Aki?" Her voice is very close to his ear and very, very soft, like a breath on the breeze. He turns to look at her but one of her hands knots in his hair, keeping him still.

"Minako?"

"I'm not scared." She laughs a little; it sounds old and strange. "Not anymore."

He is. Terrified, of all the ways it could go wrong. Of sending her up there alone. Of everything. But he nods. "You're allowed to be."

"I know." Her fingers start tracing patterns on his scalp. "But I'm not."

He's not sure what to say, so he just presses his lips into her hair and breathes her in. "Be careful, still," he decides on, and even though the words won't keep her safe, they help. She laughs again, that dead, old laugh, and draws back to look him in the eye.

"I will."

That's enough. He kisses her then, and she sighs into him. He pushes away remaining worry and focuses on _her._ She leaves their foreheads pressed together, some of the brightness back in her eyes, this close to his. "I love you, Akihiko Sanada."

"And I love you."

She is gone, then. He watches her go and the ache in his chest is an old pain, one he welcomes back to his side after all these years.

He watches her go until he can see her no more.


	16. XVI

**XVI: Tears**

Akihiko wakes to a weight on the bed, the springs creaking, protesting the addition. He blinks in the darkness, relieved to find it not tinged green, for once. Moonlight washes the frozen figure of Minako silver, brightening the tear-tracks on her cheeks. The beginnings of winter press against his windows; the room is cold.

"Minako..?" he asks sleepily, moving the blankets to let her beneath them. He registers dully that her skin is like ice, but she curls against him, nose to his chest, and all he cares about is that she was crying. "What's wrong?"

"I…" she swallows and buries herself against his chest. Her breathing is loud in the near-darkness; he coils an arm around her waist and blinks again, faster, still waking up. His heart squeezes.

"I just didn't want to be alone." Her voice is thin. A small sob wracks through her, and Akihiko wraps both of his arms around her and draws her to him, lost in the face of her sudden sadness. He kisses her forehead and she spasms again; a few hot tears land on his skin.

"Minako." He says her name again, softly, like volume will break her. "Talk to me."

Her head shakes against him; hair tickling his neck where she's resting. "No, really, it's just me. I… I'm sorry, it was a…" her breath catches, dragging her words to a stop. She covers her mouth with one of her hands, and the entire room grows quieter. Akihiko holds her and waits.

"…A nightmare," she says at last, her voice composed and gentle.

He nods; those he understands. This must have wracked her, though, unlike anything he's ever seen. Her whole body shakes as another wave hits her, and tears flow freely down her cheeks, one of her hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt.

Akihiko doesn't expect her to continue, or elaborate, and she doesn't. If she wants to talk about it; he's here. If she doesn't; he's still here. Good enough, for now. He traces soothing circles on her back and together they wait out the sobs and the tears.

He wonders what reminder she was forced to relive; whatever reduced her to a shadow of their esteemed leader in his arms. He won't ask, not unless she tells him, but it brings a worried curiosity to the forefront of his mind. Whatever she dreamt about, he would love to never see her endure again.

Eventually, eyelids heavy with fatigue, she kisses him, sloppily, once. "Good night, Aki. Thank you." She slips off to sleep before he can reply, and he gently wipes her cheeks with his thumb.

"Good night, Minako."


	17. XVII

**XVII: Dead Leaves**

Autumn is ending; the leaves no longer possess the color they used to. The chill of winter hasn't quite set in yet, and Akihiko walks to school with only his jacket. He doesn't need more than that.

"Aki!" Minako's voice drifts to him over his shoulder. He pivots his head and finds her running, kicking leaves in her wake. She's late; and her eyes are wide, hidden partially by loose strands of hair. She falls into step at his side and rubs her hands together furiously. "I overslept; I never oversleep…"

She adjusts the strap of her schoolbag, slung over one shoulder, and brushes her bangs from her forehead, smiling at him. Her cheeks are pink from her run. "You left without me," she accuses lightly, taking his hand.

"Had to," he smirks. "Didn't wanna be late."

"We're not _that_ late."

"We will be if you don't walk faster." He pulls her down the street, hearing the little sigh escape her into the cool morning air.

"The leaves are pretty," she comments as she puts forward an effort to keep up, soon matching him almost stride for stride. She slows a moment to snatch one off the ground, brown and crinkled, speckled only faintly with the common vibrant red. Akihiko tips his head but doesn't slow down.

"They're dying…" he says, scanning the ground for ones that might still be colorful. His search comes up empty.

"Yeah, but they're still kinda pretty." She holds it closer to him. "It's trying." The red clinging to life matches her eyes. It makes him think of before, a long time ago, younger. Leaves were novel, then. They weren't just dead.

"Maybe," he concedes. "Thinking of keeping it?"

Minako twirls it between her fingers. "Hmm," she muses, eventually stuffing it into the pocket of her coat. It makes a harsh crackling sound, muffled by the fabric. "A memento of our hurried morning?"

He laughs. "Sure. Something like that."

She squeezes his hand, eventually shifting her wrist to check her watch. "Okay," she says, increasing her speed, changing to pulling _him_ along. "You're right, I lied. Late." Her words are short, but her face as she passes him is bright.

"Told you," he chuckles, finding himself breaking into a run at her side, not losing her hand.

"Don't insult me, Sanada. I know far too much about time."

Their feet kick leaves as they run, and he listens to the crunching as he watches her hair float around her head. He knows a thing or two about time, too.


	18. XVIII

**XVIII: Tunnels**

Akihiko has, really, always hated tunnels. Close spaces of any kind. They make him feel claustrophobic, restrained, walls pressing in around him. As he's older they're not as bad, not like they used to be. He made it easier, forced it to be, because the alternative was living with that fear and he'd hated it.

Now, he counts the lights flashing past him and concentrates on the feeling of Minako's head against his shoulder. She might be asleep; it's been a long ride. The excursion outside the city had been her idea, and Akihiko had for the first time in a long time forgotten they had a Full Moon waiting for them when they returned.

Not anymore, however. They have maybe five hours before the Hour descends on them with its full force. Akihiko watches the end of the tunnel grow closer and exhales lowly through his nose. The train is packed; people jostle each other for seats, finishing work and classes and bundled against the encroaching cold. Minako shifts against him and sighs. He still doesn't know if she's awake.

She's been running herself ragged, and he doesn't want to wake her. This is a long tunnel; he's lost count of the lights in his head, and so he lets them blur together in his vision until they make one long, fuzzy string of glowing gold. Minako's hand in his squeezes and releases. He squeezes it back. Not sleeping, then.

"What are you staring at?" she asks, her voice soft.

He smirks. "Just the tunnel."

"Ah. But you were thinking, I can tell." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Can you now."

"I can." Her head rises off his shoulder and she grins at him. "You stop moving when you're thinking."

He laughs. She's far too observant; it's no wonder she excels at leading and strategy. Akihiko holds her hand a little tighter, not wanting to lose the levity. On the train right now, there's no fear, no Shadows, no blood. He wishes it was like this more often.

"I think all the time." He kisses her, sweetly, quickly. "You'd be surprised how much of it you miss."

"Oh?" she laughs, lips curling. "And what was the tunnel making you think about?" In the winking lights rapidly changing her from light to shadow, she looks ethereal, mysterious, ringed in gold. Akihiko tips his head at her and sighs. Smiles.

The past, her, old fears, new fears, darkness, light.

"…You."

A laugh. "You're hopeless, Aki. I love you."


	19. XIX

**XIX: Spare Change**

"Wait, I have to toss a coin in the fountain." Minako's hand in his pulls Akihiko to a stop, and he snaps himself from his thoughts, led over to Paulownia's wishing fountain, tossing a light spray into the air.

"Making a wish?" He asks, peering over the rim of the fountain into the water, where a handful of coins sparkles back at him from the bottom. Their faces are distorted by the ripples of the falling droplets, and they look fake, almost. Like if he reached in and took one he'd come up empty handed.

"Sometimes." Minako pulls a single coin from her coat pocket and rolls it between her fingers. "But I got one wish granted already, so…" She stares at the coin rotating back and forth, winking in the artificial lights from the ceiling.

Akihiko _hms_ but doesn't say anything else. She's trailed off, lost to her thoughts. He stands next to her and lets her think, scanning the crowd for any people he recognizes. He flexes his fingers inside his gloves; he hasn't trained yet today and he's starting to get tense.

"So… if you're not making a wish, what are you doing?" He asks to break the silence. Minako looks at him and blinks a few times. The coin is balanced on the end of one of her fingers, like she's ready to flip it.

"Traditions, Sanada." She smirks at him, then, her grin turning wicked. She flicks the coin into the fountain; it rotates once twice three times before landing in the pool with a faint splashing sound and adds to the sparkling pile. One lost amid hundreds. No longer special, or hers.

"…Traditions," he repeats, raising an eyebrow. She tucks her hand back into the pocket of her coat and sighs, once.

"Yeah. My…my mom always tossed coins in the fountain, whatever she had on her." She begins walking again, and he follows. "Whether or not she had anything to wish for."

Akihiko catches up to her, side by side, and she stops in front of the door of Hagakure to look him in the eye.

"She told me that your spare change was something you didn't need, so you might as well make it useful in some way. Some small moment of joy that a single yen can't buy you otherwise." She's blushing, now, in earnest. Even her ears are pink. She never talks about her mom, just as he doesn't talk about Miki, and the information is new and renders him silent.

"That's…" and he runs out of words. She blinks and nods, though, like she understands.

"I know."

He opens the door to Hagakure instead and ushers her through. Behind them, before the door closes, he can hear the fountain, full of not only coins and wishes but joy, and he thinks he will never see it the same way again.


	20. XX

**XX: Wish**

It's cold tonight; Akihiko can feel the chill through his jacket, poking the fabric stretched over his hands. Minako is pressed into his side, her breath pooling in the air between them. Using the arm around her waist he pulls her closer, and she tips her head to rest against his shoulder. She doesn't say anything.

She asked him to take a walk with her, though it's late, and the crinkle in her forehead told him he shouldn't refuse. So here they sit, on a bench at the shrine, bundled against the cold and observed by the stars in all their silent, twinkling awe. Akihiko doesn't know for sure what she'd like to talk to him about, but he has a few guesses, and none of them are pleasant. He frowns subconsciously and tilts his face to the sky, analyzing the stars for constellations he recognizes.

There aren't any.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks to break the silence, hating the quiet, the waiting. He turns his head to stare over the expanse of the shrine; the prayer box sits empty and lonely near the entrance, expectant. The entire space is that same, eerie silence, the silence of a late night.

Minako sighs, though it might be more of a laugh; he can't really tell. Sometimes he's not sure he'll ever be able to tell. Her hand reaches out and taps his leg, right over his knee. He's been bouncing it without realizing. "A lot," she says, though her voice is muffled by his jacket as she turns her face into his chest. "About SEES. About the Shadows."

He wraps his other hand around her waist. "We're doing what we have to."

"I… yeah. I know." She sits up then, leaning her head back over the bench so that her hair—free, loose, spilling to her shoulders—hangs over empty air. "I just… I wanted to take a walk and forget, but I can't. It's here," and she wiggles her fingers "and here," she places a hand on either side of her head "and here." She rests a hand on his chest, moving so that she's facing him, fingers splayed over his heart. He wonders if she can feel it beating through all the layers. He stays silent, waiting for her to say more. This revelation is new, so he waits.

They sit like that for a minute, her hand on his heart, her eyes wide and blinking only periodically. He swallows. Her smiles turns bitter, almost sharp. She laugh-sighs again. "I'm sorry. This… I'm sorry." Her hand retracts, she retracts, stares at the sky. "Sometimes, Aki, I wish we were normal."

He understands that, the overwhelming nature of the fighting, the constant fear. This is, however, the first time she's admitting to it, and it makes her smaller. Quieter. The acceptance, the confusion. Akihiko nods, slowly. He wishes a lot of things. "I know. Don't apologize."

Silence hangs, in which she stares at the stars. Her hands knot in her lap, and she takes several long breaths before tucking her hair behind her ears. She turns to look at him, then, and her smile is small, but real. "You know, you're the only thing I wouldn't wish away."

He smirks. "I'd hope so."


	21. XXI

**XXI: Blind Date**

" _Where_ are you taking me?" Akihiko demands as Minako pulls him down the hallway of the dorm, blindfolded. _Blindfolded._ He isn't sure if he should be concerned or not.

"Shhh. It's a surprise."

He just hopes he doesn't run into anything. That's the last thing they need.

Having climbed three flights of stairs, he knows they're near the rooftop, and then there's the sound of a door opening and the brush of an evening breeze on his face. Minako hasn't faced the rooftop since that first night; why is she bringing him here?

His hand goes to the blindfold, but a light slap stops it. "Hey! Not yet. Come here." She tightens her grip on his wrist and all but drags him through the cool air. Akihiko allows himself to be led, oddly pleased that she would care enough to concoct a surprise for him. He's still just the slightest bit concerned. Habit. Can't help it.

"Okay. Now." She unties the blindfold for him, and he finds that she's set up a meager picnic on the rooftop, the moon as their only light. The sky is remarkably clear, and she has two bowls of ramen and an assortment of vegetables and meat. He's certain he's grinning like an idiot.

"What… what's all this for?"

"Well, y'know, I just, I just wanted the rooftop to be a better place." She leans a little closer to him, smiling wickedly, and her hair and her eyes nearly match his in the moonlight. "Considering that it was… pretty awful last time. Terrifying, actually, and I didn't want to remember it that way anymore and I— _mmph!"_

He captures her in a quick kiss, and she starts to almost laugh against him. Damn, he's a lucky man, to find someone like her in a situation like _this._ He pulls back, and she blinks rapidly, eyelashes close enough to dust his cheek.

"Right," she smirks, tracing a finger down his jawline. "I'm still nervous about you, _Aki._ "

"Mm," he says, glancing at the blanket and then at the sky to hide the rising heat at the name, moving his hands to her waist briefly before releasing her. "Don't be."

She laughs then, honestly, and he kisses her again, once. "What's on the menu?" he asks.

They settle together on the blanket, digging into the meal, which is perfect. For a moment, he forgets that they have anything else they need to be worrying about, and it's enough.

And when the sky turns green and Shadows click claws in the alleys, they bundle the blanket and return inside, his arm around her waist.

Nerves have nothing to do with it. Her smile, even tinted green, is still enough.


	22. XXII

**XXII: Dinner**

Minako encouraged Shinjiro to cook, and SEES can eat as a group. Akihiko's amazed upon entering the kitchen, Shinji hard at work darting around like a madman. He stops with his hands in his pockets and arches an eyebrow. Once was shocking enough. That she'd managed to pull it off _again…_

He crosses the room to where she's sitting at the dining room table, staring at an assignment, as the pop and sizzle of food in the pan fills the room. She's chewing on the end of her pencil, forehead wrinkled in thought. There's a healing scratch peeking up from the collar of her shirt. He'd like to trace it and see it disappear.

"You must be magic," he says, leaning over the back of her chair. She doesn't jump, but smiles faintly, turning her eyes through her bangs to peer at him behind sunset strands. Something lands in a pan and a hiss whispers through the room.

"Maybe I am, Aki," she laughs, her voice low. "I just haven't told you."

"I wouldn't be surprised," he says, letting his gaze drop to her homework. History, of some kind. "Hard at work yourself?"

"Sort of," she says, tapping her eraser on the paper and frowning. Minako lifts the sheet and squints at it in the lamplight. "How much do you know about Van Gogh?"

It's a familiar question. He takes the paper from her offered hand and looks it over. A research paper on the artist and his work. He's halfway through her third sentence when Shinji's head pops in from the kitchen and his eyes alight on Akihiko.

"Come help me."

Akihiko glances up from the page and meets his stare. "Now?"

"Yeah. Now."

He puts the paper down and ghosts his fingers over Minako's shoulder before following Shinji into the kitchen. It's alive with activity; several different pots and pans all sizzle and bubble in the space around him. Shinji walks toward the far wall and stuffs his hands in his pockets. His eyes are serious and dark.

"Shinji?" Akihiko's just as tall as him, and he meets his oldest friend's stare with no small amount of apprehension. Shinji's been… more distant than usual.

"You gonna take care of her?"

It's the last question he expected Shinji to ask, and he blinks. "Of course I am," and it's sharp when he says it. But there's no hint of a challenge in Shinji's eyes. Grief, maybe, like what he used to see after the fire, infrequent but there. Akihiko's confused, stunned, but Shinji's stance loosens, just a little. He looks old. Akihiko doesn't have time to ask him before he nods, expressionless.

"Good," Shinji says. "Someone should." A pause. "That's all. Get out of my kitchen."


	23. XXIII

**XXIII: Mother**

Minako rolls over in his bed, her hair loose and falling around her shoulders, and props her chin in her hand. He tips his head to look at her, and her eyebrows are drawn together in thought. She opens her mouth like she's going to say something, then seems to think better of it, snapping it closed and shaking her head.

"What?" Akihiko asks. He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She works her lower lip between her teeth, chin slipping off her hand to fall lightly against his chest. Uncertainty doesn't suit her.

After a moment, she speaks into the curve of his throat. "I've been thinking about how I'll never get to meet your mom."

He blinks in the dark. She sighs, long and sad. He'd, honestly, never really considered the idea before, that they were both orphans, both missing that opportunity for "meet the parents." He wraps his free hand around her waist and draws her close to him, until she fits neatly at his side.

"I didn't get to meet her either," he answers, and Minako's breath hitches in her throat. "I was young. It was always just Miki and I." He pauses a moment, thinking, heart stuttering. "And Shinji."

"You don't remember her at all?" Minako traces a small circle on his chest, right over his heart. He shakes his head.

"It's weird. I can't miss her, really, because I don't remember her." He shrugs beneath the covers, turns his head to Minako, whose face is pressed into his chest. He smiles. "Hey. She would've liked you, if you're worrying over that."

"I'm noth," comes the muffled reply. Akihiko chuckles and presses a kiss to her temple. She lifts her head. "Imagine, though, that being our biggest problem." Her voice is a kind of distant, wistful breath, and his hand curls into a fist on her waist. The world had dealt her a bad hand. She kisses his jawline. "That would be nice."

"Might never have meet me, though, without SEES." He glances at her, trying to smile, hating the thought that she would want to be anywhere else. She smacks him lightly and laughs, but it's almost a sigh.

"Aki, I would have found you no matter what."

He kisses her again, deeply. His face is warm. "And you say _I'm_ hopeless…"


	24. XXIV

**XXIV: January**

January is a bad month. Minako throws herself into her responsibilities, organizing patrols, planning missions, hunting down every last Shadow in Tartarus until Akihiko's knuckles ache with the tirade falling before them. He doesn't worry about her. They're strong enough; they're going to succeed, and no damned avatar is going to stand in their way.

The days tick on. He sees Minako less and less, and he doesn't know why. The closer to the end of the month they get, the farther apart she grows, until he's certain she's avoiding him. She doesn't come to his room, she doesn't walk home from school with him; she doesn't seek him out for assignment help. It's like he developed the plague.

And it's starting to hurt.

He's had enough. He catches her in the hallway and closes a hand around her wrist. She doesn't jump; all her SEES training keeps her solid and still, but she pivots, just a little, and his heart aches at the valleys beneath her eyes. She tries to pull away from him, but he's stronger, and he isn't about to let her go until she at least _talks to him._

"Minako. Please." Her wrist goes very tense and very still in his—but he can feel the tremors spreading through her body. He shifts his thumb so it presses against the underside of her wrist, where her pulse is, and her heartbeat is erratic and flighty, like a bird. It feels frail.

"Did I do something?" he asks to fill the silence, when she doesn't pull away but doesn't meet his eyes. The hallway is empty, given the hour, given the time. His heart is in a knot when he says it; if he has done something he hasn't the faintest idea what it is. But he wants to fix it, God, he wants to fix whatever had broken between them since December.

Silence. She breathes. Her eyes are glued to his hand on hers, and after a moment he retracts it, letting it hang at his side. Her stare darts up at last to meet his, and there's a flicker of unrivaled sadness before she tucks it away. He's dreaded this ever happening, this cold knot in his gut, but she looks almost… afraid of him.

"Minako, if you—"

"No!" The word snaps across the space between them. Her hands fly to either side of his face, framing him beneath her palms. "Ak—Aki, _no._ That's not it." He's taken aback by the force of her reaction, the speed. That must be the first time she's said his name in a week.

She tips her head forward so it rests on his collarbone, her hands sliding down to his chest. He hesitates only a moment before wrapping his arms around her waist, and she seems to crack right down the middle. Akihiko holds her together and waits.

"I'm sorry," Minako whispers, clinging to him now. "I was worried, but it's too late. It's… ah. Too late." Her voice is thick, like she's on the verge of tears. "I need you, Aki. I'm sorry."

He's not sure he understands completely, but there'll be time for that later. For now, he presses his lips into her hair and closes his eyes. "I'm here."


	25. XXV

**XXV: Rain**

Their early-morning run is interrupted by sudden dark skies and a pricking wind. Akihiko squints into the sky, watching wisps of clouds turn to angrier, darker clumps that push each other and scuttle like crabs across the once-blue expanse. The promise of rain hangs in the air thick and heavy; he can taste it.

"It wasn't supposed to rain," he muses, holding out a hand as the first fat drops come hurtling to the ground. They're like little icicles, and he flexes his fingers as they pattern his palms with crystal shimmer. He glances at Minako; her face is upturned to the droplets, her eyes closed. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips as the rain soaks her hair and leaves it more red than brown, loose strands plastered to her neck and her cheeks.

What started as a sprinkling turns steadily into a downpour. Akihiko bunches his shoulders around his ears and frowns as the cold needles pierce straight through his thin shirt. He'd rather be dry, thanks.

Making a dash for the nearest shop awning, he tucks himself beneath it and shakes water off his shoes and his hair. Minako is still standing on the sidewalk, smiling, all teeth. He shakes his head in wonder. That girl.

"Aki, c'mon! This is nice!" She turns that smile on him, and he tries to mimic it, though he refuses to move. Nice? Don't think so. He's cold. He rests both of his hands on his hips and shakes his head again, more firmly. Minako frowns, though it's more of a pout. She jogs over to him, all bright lines and ruby eyes.

"Afraid of a little rain?" She taunts him, closing her hand around his. She's cold, too, but she doesn't seem to mind. Rain drips off the ends of her hair and the tip of her nose, and her lips are a faint, pale blue. He sighs, tracing a quick circle around her palm.

"Just cold," he consents. Her grip on his hand grows tighter, and the edges of her smile turn wicked.

"Well, moving will warm you up," and she tugs him back out into the rain. It is _cold._ She leads him to the center of the sidewalk, free of commuters given the weather, and turns to face him, still holding his hand so it now occupies the space between them. Her smile should be bright enough to part the clouds.

He shakes his head and smiles at her, conceding defeat. She laughs, releasing his hand to pivot in a small circle, arms spread and face upturned. "Might be the last time it rains for a while," she says, eyes closed. "You should savor it."

But that's not what he wants to savor, right now. When she spins to face him again he catches her and draws her to him for a kiss, and her lips are chilled. She tastes of rainwater and promises and daylight.

She melts into him, and he is not nearly so cold.


	26. XXVI

**XXVI: Scar**

"I've been meaning to ask you," Minako says, pulling herself into a sitting position. They've been laying on the floor in his room, staring at the ceiling, discussing meaningless things. He tips his head to watch her movement, one arm propped behind his neck, the other on his stomach, drumming out a pattern.

"Hm?" he asks, waiting for her to elaborate. Her eyebrows draw together and then smooth out, and she leans close to him, close enough that he could tip his head and kiss her, but he doesn't. Her hand comes up to the left side of his head, right near his eye, and rests against the bandage that's always there. It never moves.

"What is this?" Her voice holds a mix of concern and curiosity, ticking up at the end like she's not sure he'll answer her. Akihiko sighs, working a muscle in his jaw. He'd known she would ask; he's just been waiting.

"It's old," he says, waving the hand not behind his head out in the direction of the window, where the sun is just starting to set, painting the room a burnished, tinted gold. Minako knots her hands in her lap and nods, looking thoughtful. "We were young. Brave. Stupid." Thought they were the kings of the world, what with their powers. If he could go back, he'd tell himself not to be so reckless.

As it is, he shifts his arm and sits up, too, eyes level with her. "I got too close to a Shadow." He turns his head and peels the bandage back, wincing as it stretches skin. When it's free, he waits, watching her lips twitch down and her eyes widen. Something flashes in their reddish depths before disappearing. There's a heartbeat of silence, and then her finger gently traces the angry, raised skin crisscrossing his temple, a knotted web of once-ripped raw. He breathes and lets her. And waits.

"Another reminder I needed to be stronger, when I was certain I'd lost an eye."

He swears she might smile at that; that's his goal. "You _should've_ lost an eye," she murmurs, reaching the end of the scar not centimeters from the corner of said eye. Her fingers are cool. He looks at her for a moment, strong and sure and beautiful, and leans away, moving to replace the bandage.

"Why cover it?" she asks as he does so. He smirks at the question, settling back against the floor, adjusting corners until it rests comfortably again.

"Teachers would demand answers," he says, and watches her concern shift to a kind of understanding. He gestures to the bandage. "Easier this way. Gives me an air of mystery, too."

 _That_ gets her to laugh. "Oh, _please,"_ she says, curling up against him, head on his shoulder, little trembles reaching him as she continues to giggle lightly. He rests a hand at her hip and pulls her close.

"It seemed to work, you have to admit," he teases, grinning at the ceiling. She buries her nose into the crook of his neck.

"Yes, but you don't need an _air of mystery_ anymore." She kisses the edge of his jaw.

"No, I suppose I don't."


	27. XXVII

**XXVII: Battle**

They have an understanding in the heat of battle. She sees the flow of combat, and he executes her vision. It works. Always has. Ever since that night on Iwatodai's rooftop, when Orpheus burst to raw, blue life, she's had master over tactics the way they'd needed three years ago.

With her, before, they might have stood a chance.

Now, at the very least, she keeps them alive. She knows weaknesses, balances strengths, and guides them through the mazes with a quiet, efficient grace. Her ever-changing host of Personas leaves him wondering if he will ever really understand her at all.

Even tonight, after a long trek through Tartarus, with bleeding scratches and wild hair, she is in control of the situation. The hem of her uniform is torn, skin dotted with scratches and too-close calls, but still she moves, fluid as water, pivoting and slashing and " _Aki_!"

Akihiko turns, bringing a fist down with a resounding _crack_ into the skull of a Shadow, that crumples to ink-black liquid and coats his knuckles. He flicks his fingers, spattering the floor of Tartarus with that unknown, dark liquid, and glances around. Junpei has just finished his own skirmish, and Mitsuru slides between Shadows with her rapier outstretched, moving like a force of nature.

The sounds of combat suddenly come rushing back to him full-force, slamming into his ears. Orders shouted in Minako's voice and Mitsuru's calm replies and Junpei, calling one Shadow an asshole. Akihiko rolls his neck and feints sideways around a pair of long, outstretched hands, dark like the sky and the spaces between pillars.

His Evoker is in his other hand, spinning and aligning and _firing_ —and then the Shadow is reduced to sparks and echoes, chattering ringing in his ears. Caesar fades, and Akihiko looks for Minako in the moment after.

 _"Aki!"_ again, but this time she needs him. He ducks under a flashing blade that is soon attracted to Mitsuru, and appears at Minako's side. Dominion throws a fractured, broken light around her features, making her appear ethereal, half shadow and half light. She turns, and the Persona turns with her. Akihiko takes a moment to fully comprehend its size, wings spread, sword tipped in fire.

Minako pivots fully upon spotting him, hands spread, and Dominion's mimic her, blade aligning horizontally with the three Shadows advancing on her. Akihiko knows. He slides up next to her, Evoker at the ready, and waits. Mitsuru's sword swings and Junpei's insults fade to white noise as he focuses on the angles of Minako's face, of their own shadows thrown out in Dominion's light.

"Now, Aki," she whispers, and it sounds clear as day. Akihiko raises his Evoker and fires and Caesar's form next to Dominion bathes Tartarus blue. Maziodyne shatters the tiles beneath their feet, sword crackling and sparking and his ears are ringing. Minako claps her hands together, once, enough, and—

 _"Hamaon."_

…It works. Always has.


	28. XXVIII

**XXVIII: Mine**

The first one that stops him outside school, he doesn't think much of. Just one; he can avoid her easily enough. But then, she has a friend. And her friend has three more. And pretty soon there's a mild circle of at least a dozen of them, chattering and crowding close to him, much too close. He has a line, and they so often cross it.

Akihiko clears his throat loudly, and a handful of them take a step back. Their voices, however, do not get any quieter. "Akihiko-senpai!" "Hello! Hi! Senpai! How are you?" "How was your Championship? Did you win? I'm sure you did!" "Oh, have you heard? That new girl, that transfer student?" "What does she have to do with Senpai?" "You haven't _heard."_

He turns his eyes skyward and silently begs for intervention. The girls don't let him pass, demanding answers and acknowledgment. He closes a hand tight around the strap of his schoolbag and scans the steadily growing crowd for faces he recognizes, coming up empty after a few moments. Damnit, he's just one guy. There are hundreds at this school… go bother them.

They're also discussing Minako as if she's a threat, when she's already won that competition. Haven't _they_ heard? Akihiko feels like he made that relationship pretty clear.

"Girls," he says, and at least a dozen eyes snap up to meet his. "Excuse me."

The group seems to deflate. "Senpai!" One voice says louder than the others, and he turns his head to locate it. A girl near the back with her hair in a braid grins at him when he meets her eyes. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to speak. "How was your day, Senpai?"

"Fine," he huffs out, and there's a ripple of discontent through the group. He shifts his jacket on his shoulder and scans the crowd again, fidgety, contained. They just need to _move…_ but he's not the kind of person to shove them out of the way.

However, he apparently doesn't need to be. "Senpai!" This voice rings sharp and prominent and… odd, and he turns his head again, trying to hide his smile upon finding the eyes to match the voice he would know anywhere.

Minako hasn't called him _Senpai_ in weeks.

She elbows her way to the front of the group, pushing past gaping mouths and wide eyes until she strides into the center of the circle radiating confidence. Akihiko knows her plan before she even reaches him, and she stops mere centimeters from the end of his nose. She's wearing his favorite perfume, and the scent wreathes around him.

"Here I am," she smirks, "rescuing _you."_ And she locks her arms around his neck and kisses him. One collective, earth-shuddering gasp rips around the group; Akihiko thinks one girl might've fainted. The kiss is brief, but when it ends Minako cups his jaw with her hand, keeping their foreheads together. Akihiko hears the muttering and the—sobbing?—that precedes the circle's dispersal, but his eyes are all for Minako.

Her smile is dazzling. "Well, that was satisfying."


	29. XXIX

**XXIX: Training**

In an effort to keep her safe, he trains her. An old pair of gloves that don't fit him anymore, as well as some patience, and pretty soon Minako has the grace and the fluidity of someone with twice her skill. She's a fast learner.

Akihiko faces her on the mat in his room, circling, waiting for an opening. Her eyes are battle-bright and ready. "You're not gonna win today, Aki," she all but chants, dancing back and forth on the mat, working her toes into the material. The punching bag she'd previously been working with had outstayed its welcome, and now all she has is him.

He carries his gloved hands up by his eyes, peering at her over the edges, trying not to smile and ruin the mood. She's good, though, and he can tell that she knows it, too. Cocky will only get her so far with him, though. Cocky might get her killed.

No precedence, no warning, and he swings, aiming low for her ribs, looking to crack something if he had any power behind it. She twirls sideways, the beginning of his glove grazing her stomach, and lashes out on her own, going for his ear. He sees it; one thing she hasn't quite been able to master is unpredictability. And well, he's been boxing his whole life. Impressing him is hard.

He dodges, bobbing his head like a snake, turning his fist up for an uppercut. Like lightning, his teacher says, and Minako can't quite dodge lightning. His fist halts inches from her chin, and her eyes narrow as he pulls it back.

"Close," he says, stripping off the gloves and shaking out his palms. Tartarus caused him to train without gloves for so long, wearing them is odd. Makes his hands all sweaty.

Minako claps her own gloves together, a repeated _thunk, thunk_ that echoes in his teeth. He scratches the back of his neck; they've been at this for a while, but she still dances from foot to foot light as a feather, ready to go.

"Will I ever beat you?" she asks, an echo to her voice like she's an announcer at a competition. He smirks, wandering closer to her, rolling his neck in a circle.

"Maybe," he says, looking her up and down. "If you—"

His feet are suddenly no longer beneath him. He jerks sideways and goes down hard, colliding with the mat and blinking from the sudden shock. Nothing hurt, more stunned than anything. He stares at the ceiling and Minako bends over him, boxing gloves raised to her eyes, crinkled in a smile.

"Never drop your guard," she says, throwing old words back at him. He squints at her, judging his angles, then pivots his own feet and weaves them between her own. With a sharp twist, she joins him on the ground, landing unceremoniously in a bundle on his chest.

He half-catches her, but the impact aches all the same. She's a mess of red hair and red eyes and a wide white smile. "Aki!" Minako pries her gloves off and rolls over, propping her elbows on his chest. He gives her a pointed, smirking stare. "I know, I know." She kisses him. "But does this mean I win?"


	30. XXX

**XXX: Alone**

Akihiko feels like he's forgetting something. There's a gap… somewhere, in his head, and his girlfriend has something to do with it.

Minako Arisato. He can taste the meaning behind her name when he says it. He feels the way his heart clenches in his chest. But he doesn't know why. He knows that he loves her, but he doesn't remember meeting her. She's just… there, as if she has been this entire time.

Did he really do nothing but box for three years? Is that all? Not to mention Shinji…

Akihiko shakes his head. He doesn't feel well. Maybe that's it. Minako is his girlfriend, and she… she… when did he meet her? Why can he remember the dates, her laughter, her voice and her eyes and her smile and _damnit_ , what's wrong with him?

Nerves? He did just complete high school, after all. He hadn't seen Minako at the ceremony, even though she'd promised him she'd come. Promised _, after graduation—_

It's like someone has punched him in the jaw.

Tartarus. Shadows. Polydeuces and Caesar and Shinji and Nyx and the Fall and… _Minako._

Where is she? He sorts his jumbled mind enough to remember: Rooftop.

He runs. He doesn't care who's in his way, he has to find Minako, right now. Akihiko takes the flights of stairs to the rooftop two at a time, and bursts into the March sunshine to find her, beautiful and strong and his, yes, he remembers.

Minako turns her head, and the smallest smile graces her lips. She's standing at the railing, overlooking the skyline, and her hands are closed around the metal in a death grip. "Aki?" she asks, and his name in her voice repairs all the edges of the world.

 _Minako…_

"I'm here," he says, darting to her side, gathering her into his arms and kissing her deeply. She sighs into him, her hands lifting slowly to hold his shoulders. "I'm sorry I forgot. I remember now, everything." For a moment, everything is back to the way it should be.

And then, it all comes apart. She goes weak in his arms, no longer supporting her own weight, and her voice fades to a whisper, a desperate, final plea. "Stay with me, Aki. I'm… so tired…"

"Minako, hey, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

Her finger traces the line of his jaw. "I'm so happy you remembered, Aki. I… love you." Her eyes slide closed. He says her name again, but she doesn't reply. Her breathing becomes even and deep and then fades out entirely. It's the moment his repaired world _ends_.

He can't hear anything over the pounding in his ears, the stone settling in his stomach. "Minako? Minako! You can't… no, Minako… don't do this to me, please…" He strokes her hair and cradles her to him, to no avail. Something important shatters inside his chest. "Not you, too."


	31. XXXI

**XXXI: Ghosts**

Akihiko has his fair share of ghosts.

Two faceless parents, gone too early to be missed.

A sister, gone too young.

A friend, vanished to the winds.

A love, lost for the greater good.

It's unfair, he decides as he climbs the hill in the rain. The entire world is unfair, greedy, taking and never giving back. His hand not holding the bouquet curls into a fist, briefly, before relaxing.

He always thinks these things on days like today, days where Minako would've dragged him out to dance in the rain, days where she should be smiling from a University window somewhere, watching the patterns on the window.

Days like today, where instead he visits a simple headstone and regrets it all.

Akihiko adds the bundle of sunset-orange roses to the others already assembled, sunflowers and daisies and carnations spread helter-skelter over the simple stone. He arranges them just so, then crouches in the grass near her name and laces his fingers together, not caring if he ruins the knees of his pants.

The falling rain fills the silence for a few heartbeats, but he has nothing to say. There's nothing he _can_ say. He wasn't enough; he didn't know; she didn't tell him. All useless excuses in the end. They won't bring her back. So he crouches in the rain and watches the rivulets run over the lines of her name.

She'd died to save all of humankind. He doesn't think there's a headstone big enough to fit that sacrifice.

…He misses her. Damnit, he misses her so much it's like a hole in his chest. Akihiko can still picture her clear as day, outlined in light, smiling, beautiful. He wonders how long it will last before he starts to forget all her little details, the way he doesn't remember any longer what Miki's voice sounded like. Akihiko closes a hand around the small stuffed rabbit in his pocket.

He doesn't want to forget Minako that way.

He gets to his feet, running gloved fingers over the edge of the headstone. There aren't any words, but somehow he thinks she'd understand. She'd told him she wasn't afraid; he should try to repay the favor.

But as he walks down the hill he finds he cannot distinguish the rain from his tears. Mother, Father, Miki, Shinji. _Minako._

…Akihiko has his fair share of ghosts.


End file.
